


Meet You at Earl's Court

by hedgerowhag



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, and drunk wrangling, featuring: no one is able to act on their feelings sober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 03:24:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15330660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgerowhag/pseuds/hedgerowhag
Summary: It is easy to lose track of people in the city, to never see the same face twice. It’s like entering an airport, every time a new influx of faces.--A remake of'West Bound'.





	Meet You at Earl's Court

**Author's Note:**

> 'west bound' is quite a bit sentimental to me since it was like... the 2nd proper kylux fic i had written. but i always thought i could make it better. if u have read both this version and the old one, tell me what u think? do u prefer one? has this one been an improvement? there isnt a huge difference but i still think its something

At first, Hux disregarded the flu as a mild discomfort. It was just a sore ache at the back of his throat that he would tamper down with coffee from the campus vending machines between classes. It was a minor hindrance.

However, it was Thursday when the cough became a wheeze, then a dry heaving that Hux couldn’t stop. The fits would erupt during his office hours, disrupting his colleagues in their closet-sized shared office. They frowned at him and offered water, but he would refuse and choke down coffee until he started hiccupping.

Hux could merely be glad that his students were happy to cut their seminars short as he excused them with barely audible ‘That’s it, thank you for your time’ wheezed through his teeth.

Hux had been waiting outside of the lecture hall, biting his tongue through the coughs and hiccups. He was prepared to choke on his wheezing at the rear of the hall through the session, but the cancellation alert arrived, and the small cluster collected at the doors was dispersed.

Hux left the Imperial College of London campus, sniffling through the snot collecting on his upper lip as he charged toward the White City underground station. In the rat-nest corridors, the air was muggy, filled with stale breathing and the smell of congealed oil. Hux sunk into his coat and scarf as he stood on the platform, tasting mucus at the back of his throat as he sniffled.

At Notting Hill, after a brief jog, Hux changed to District Line, taking a south bound train. Most of the carriages at the rear of the train were empty as the commuters were only due later in the evening. Hux slumped across a seat, knees spread out, briefcase lamped between his feet. He allowed his eyes to droop, nose pressed into his scarf.

 

An announcement rang out through the train for Earl’s Court as Hux sneezed awake. He looked around with half an eye open and realised that, blessedly, he hasn’t fallen across the seats. His briefcase was between his feet and there were only two seats filled on his row.

Broad strokes of light pushed into the carriage. Some passengers began to stand, shuffling toward the doors in preparation for the commuters.

The train rocked on the rails and Hux kept his eyes closed from the nausea and the pain from the light burning on his face. He blinked when a shadow slipped over him. His briefcase was caught on the edge of a shoe and thrown across the floor. Hux didn’t move, just watched the folders and notebooks scatter under the seats and feet of commuters. He must have latched it poorly.

“ _Oh shit_ —” cursed the stranger that was shaped out of the shadow. “I’m so sorry.” The man jolted to pick up the papers as they slid on the rocking floor. He stuffed them into Hux’s slack hands, muttering apologies.

Slowly, Hux began to paw the papers toward himself, shoving them into his briefcase. In the absent hum of his background thoughts, he noted that the man had an American accent. It didn’t surprise him; London is a jumbled puzzle box of nationalities.

“Thanks,” Hux grunted as the stranger pushed a wad of papers back into the folder and handed it to him.

The man stood, swaying with the movement of the train. Hux took in his appearance through the daze of the flu. The hood of the man’s jacket was brushing on the carriage ceiling and his shoulders, as wide as they were, hunched in on themselves as though he could make himself any smaller. He wore black, like colour was an insult – including his hair, which was either damp or unwashed. Hux was just about dazed enough to stare at the man’s moles and his childish brown eyes that didn’t fit the rest of his body which seemed to have been built for a movie role involving motorbikes and desert scenes.

Then, a realisation slammed into Hux’s head, crashing and jamming his heart into his jugular. He coughed and bit his tongue as he shouted through his dry throat, “ _You_!”

The man tensed, eyes struck wide as they fixed on Hux. Something in him seemed to have dropped, freezing him in place.

The train rocked on the rails, dragging passengers forward as it lost speed. The doors began to open. The man jolted, tripping on his feet, and reeled from Hux who lurched from his seat.

“ _Kylo fucking Ren_!” Hux screamed as his throat was cut with pain.

The barely open doors were jammed by Kylo’s frame as he fell out onto the platform, shoving apart the waiting crowds. Hux barrelled after him, throwing himself at the people trying to squeeze themselves into the train carriage shoulder to shoulder.

Hux elbowed his way clear, catching the sight of Kylo as he took a sharp turn onto the staircase. Hux yelled over the heads of the crowd, “ _You fucking bastard_ , I will rip you apart!”

Kylo’s head ducked. He wrenched himself up the staircase, shouldering his way through a cluster of commuters moving down the steps – almost pushing them down.

Hux stormed the platform, holding his tongue on the threats of physical damage. His sight of the staircase disappeared as the masses of commuters leaving the train surged around him, blocking his way to the steps.

Out of breath, with snot running down to his lip, Hux finally made it out from the platform. He turned on his claimed patch of clear ground on the threshold to the staircase, but saw nothing.

 

 

Imperial College of London was where Hux had abandoned any hopes of seeing prosperity in social circles. Instead, he found footing in his academia, gaining a Bachelor’s diploma in politics before continuing onto his postgraduate degree.

However, needs must, Hux found himself housing with seven other students during his second and third year of the undergraduate course. Among those students was a kid that insisted on being called ‘Kylo Ren’, despite the student system quite clearly reading ‘Ben Organa’ – as was discovered after a mislaid ID card.

Being the friends of a mutual friend, they lived in the same house for two years – spending both the academic terms and the summers in London, moving properties together. During those years, they agreed to mutually dislike each other. Hux discarded Kylo as an immature, lazy lump of whining that was prone to emotional explosions. Kylo, in turn, made it clear that he thought Hux had a stick rammed so far up his ass it damaged his brain and its emotional capacities.

It was the end of their third year. Most people were already preparing to leave for home, some were celebrating marking off their final exams. It was late and absurdly drunk students started to haul in back to their accommodations in shared taxis.

There was still one exam ahead for Hux in three days’ time. He wore headphones as he scanned his notes, blanking the commotion breaking through the rooms downstairs. Then, the door into his room crashed to the wall. Hux almost fell from the bed, trying to drag his headphones off.  Kylo was in the doorway. His face was red from drinking and he smelled of smoke from the back streets of the club district.

Kylo stared at Hux, breathing heavily as he swayed into the room. Then, he ran toward the bed.

A warm body climbed onto Hux’s lap and he was kissed. He froze as Kylo grabbed his shoulders, and then his hair. There was a moment of shallow doubt as Hux tried to pull away from him, but Kylo’s sweat damp fingers stuck under his clothes as he begged for Hux to touch him.

He had never thought of Kylo as attractive or interesting, but he kissed him well and he felt soft as Hux grabbed his thighs and dragged him onto the mattress. Hux tasted the alcohol on the corners of Kylo’s mouth as they pulled each other’s clothes off with as much coordination as Kylo could manage, occasionally falling, dropping things off the bed onto the floor.

Hux knew it would be messy, awkward, but he didn’t expect Kylo to repeatedly mutter ‘I love you’ against his ear. Hux’s head swam, as though it was detaching from his shoulders while he lied between Kylo’s open thighs.

They crumpled to the bed and dozed, with Kylo’s jeans around his knees and Hux’s t-shirt on the pillow. It was hours later when they woke up. Kylo had sat up, smacking his lips, and pulled the covers into his lap, seeming calmer than ever despite his legs being tangled in his pants. Then, he looked at Hux.

Clarity came over him in front of Hux’s eyes as Kylo whimpered, “Oh no, oh fucking no, _shit_ —!”

He clawed on his clothes as he ran from the room, falling in the hallway when he lost balance. Hux wasn’t hurt. No. Not at all. He would need to confront Kylo, but for the moment he just wanted to sleep. Hux undressed and pulled the covers over himself, turning away from the door to sleep until midday.

Kylo didn’t appear throughout the day. His door was closed, and he didn’t respond when Hux knocked, to ask if he will want anything from the supermarket.

Feigning casual curiosity, Hux asked one of the housemates if they had seen Kylo. He was told that Kylo had an early flight home, back to America. He won’t be coming back, so he had his goodbye party the night before.

For the next nine years, Hux didn’t see Kylo again.

 

 

_A Week and a Half After the Day_

 

A sneeze spattered the screen of Hux’s laptop. Heaving, he reached for the tissue balled in the pocket of his jeans as the lecture continued over the sound of his sniffling. The clacking of laptop keys didn’t falter.

The majority of Hux’s weekdays were cluttered with meetings, lectures, seminars. However, on Fridays, his schedule freed after four o’clock. Typically, Hux took this as an opportunity to retire to one of the study centres or the central library. But as the flu persisted, trapping Hux in a muggy state, he deserted the campus after a four thirty scheduled meeting with a student.

Between White City and Notting Hill, the carriages were empty. Hux’s head kept tipping back against the window as he slipped into a doze, so he stood until he changed to District Line and took the south bound train to Earl’s Court.

Despite Hux’s effort, his eyes closed with the swaying of the train in the tunnels. His head dropped against the barrier and he slept.

 

As though a string had been jerked around his neck, Hux sat up. The announcement came over the intercom. The train was due to arrive at Earl’s court. Hux sighed through his clogged nose, thankful for his conditioned reactions to the stop intervals.

Hux watched passengers shuffle toward the doors as the light pressed against their backs. The floors and walls of the train were coated white by the sun, making Hux’s head throb. Then, the shadow of the station dropped over the train.

Hux drew himself out of the seat and made his way to the doors, to face the mobs of commuters waiting outside, shuffling toward the glass. The first foot was through before the doors had opened for Hux to leave. He braced his shoulders and forced his way out onto the platform.

Holding onto the hand rail, Hux slowly marched up the steps, following the printed lines. His head was aching, swaying forward as he struggled to stay awake.

Hux paused on the landing before the last section of the staircase and looked up. There was a silhouette leaning against the rails in the main corridor leading out of the station. The man was looking down, hair and the hood of his jacket hanging forward. Hux knew it was Kylo, even before he turned away and left Earl’s Court, letting the light catch on his face.

Hux could have chased him, possibly thrown something. But he stood on the staircase and watched another train pull into the station as an announcement rung out to the passengers.

 

_Four and a Half Weeks After the Day_

 

It is easy to lose track of people in the city, to never see the same face twice. It’s like entering an airport, every time a new influx of faces. Nobody is staying permanently in London; it’s just a rift for entering somewhere new.

It had been three weeks since Hux saw Kylo. Every Friday, he finished at four thirty. He rationalised that it was fair time to give up on looking for his face in the trains coming into Earl’s Court. It was just a chance encounter.

Breathing in through his clear nose, Hux wandered through the station’s barrier, slapping down his Oyster card with half a mind. Outside, the commuters merged with the pedestrians, like tributaries meeting as one current.

Hux walked in his allocated slot within the crowd, following the flowing course of the hive-mind. He trailed on the cracks in the flagstones, the corners of the folders in his bag jabbing his hip. He didn’t realise his name was being called until his shoulder was grabbed.

Hux turned, braced for the impact of a fist. But it was the sight of Kylo standing beside him as the public ebbed around them that knocked his ribs back against his lungs. He choked and stood tense as Kylo took back his hand.

They didn’t speak while Hux stared. Kylo smiled and his hand twitched like he wanted to wave.

There is another moment as neither of them moved before Hux asked, “What?”

Kylo’s expression fell in a spasm.

Out of charity, Hux prompted again, “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?”

Hux didn’t know what he had meant when he asked the question, so he shrugged. “At the station.”

It was Kylo’s turn to shrug.

“Should I get a restraining order?” A part of Hux was considering it, reaching for his phone and calling the police. But just a part of him.

“What—?” Kylo jolted. “No—No—No!” He lifted his hands up, showing his palms. “I just wanted to apologise!”

Hux stared, teeth grinding against his teeth almost to the point of chipping. “You are nine years late,” he said.

Kylo dropped his hands into his pockets and looked to the side as his shoulders lifted almost to his ears, like he could shrink into the crowd. “I—I know I don’t have any right to even ask you,” he tried, “but could we just talk?”

The attempt for sincerity was so pathetic Hux shuddered. But something made him nod.

 

 

Only heavy sedation could make Hux deal with the evening. He led them toward a relatively calm bar where they made small talk about Kylo leaving the States, about Imperial College of London, and keeping in touch with their ex-housemates. Kylo was staying with some of them in South Ealing, before he found a place for himself.

Kylo talked about dropping out of a post-grad course in the States and starting a string of seasonal jobs. He had moved back to London several months ago and took a job at the Charing Cross Theatre as a technician, while working part time as a delivery driver (he didn’t get to keep the car). He didn’t seem disinterested or particularly impressed when Hux told him about continuing with university, while teaching. Kylo stared and drank until he took the cue to speak again, picking apart the cork coaster on the sticky table top.

The conversation began to bore Hux. He watched Kylo’s lips blur, the words passing into the air and never reaching him; he didn’t care. Even if he messed up, got fucked over by school, found himself in a different continent doing worthless jobs, the nine years had been kind to Kylo. Hux can’t stand him for it, that self-assured cretin.

“Why did you do it?” Hux asked part way through Kylo’s drawling, turning his eyes up from Kylo’s lips that had become swollen red and cracked as he drank.

Kylo startled and swallowed. “Do what?”

“Why did you convince me to fuck you and then run out of the room like it was the worst day of your life?” Hux breathed hard, staring at Kylo across the table as the door of the bar opened and a new crowd bowed the floor.

Kylo sank back into his seat, hands falling into his lap.

“I don’t care what the issue is,” Hux said to him. “I need you to tell me.”

Incoherent mumbling shifted Kylo’s fringe.

Hux sat forward, leant on the table and said, “Speak _up_.”

Kylo coughed and lifted his head. “I was drunk,” he told Hux. “Very, very drunk. I couldn’t keep both eyes open. I—I only vaguely remember getting into your room. I just—You were right there. I liked you. I was leaving in the morning. I don’t know. I just wandered in there and I wanted to kiss you so bad.” Kylo bit his nails and stared at the table and the pieces of cork in the lines.

Hux crossed his arms tight against his chest and dropped back into his seat. “And?”

“Look.” Kylo leaned forward, hands reaching for Hux’s edge of the table. “I liked you _a lot._ I walked into your room and saw you. I was too drunk understand what I was doing when I tried to take my chance—”

“By climbing onto my lap and getting naked?” Hux scoffed. “Such class, Kylo.”

Clearing his throat, Kylo looked aside.

“And then? You ran away.”

Kylo sighed, still staring at the grain of the timber under his hands. “I got scared,” he explained. “How do you think anyone would have reacted if they got their senses back and realised that just had sex with you after climbing onto you drunk? I was terrified. I ran away before you could get at me. You _hated_ me.”

How stupid could the overgrown teenager be? Another scoff caught in Hux’s throat. “If you had been any less drunk, Kylo, you would have been aware that I didn’t mind having you in my bed.” He swallowed. “You didn’t do me any favours by disappearing. Did you even think to tell me that you were leaving the country?”

Kylo was picking the lines in the timber, his large hands covered by the sleeves of his jacket, the unravelling threads of the denim wrapped on his fingers. Hux waited but didn’t hear Kylo mutter again.

“I’ve had enough,” sighed Hux and stood from the table, taking hold of his coat.

He was out of the door, in the street where his shoes caught puddles that had grown in the sunken wells of the flagstones. The door opened behind him and a hand was on his forearm, pausing Hux in the street.

“Don’t make it end like this again,” Kylo told him. He held on as Hux looked down at his hand, fingers scrunching in the wool, nails bitten down to painful stubs. “Please?” he asked.

 

 

_Three Months and a Week After the Day_

 

It became a habit— Kylo made it a habit, of texting Hux and arranging for them to meet on Friday after four thirty in the afternoon. He decided that this is his method of making it up to Hux, by buying him drinks or dinner. Somehow, Hux allowed himself to be dragged along, encouraged by the thought of being foggy-minded for Kylo’s droning.

They would stay by Embankment, joined by people from Kylo’s work or friends from university that stayed in London for research PhDs. By the end of the night, they would end up alone. Holding each other up, giggling through their slacks lips and slurring with loose tongues, they would stumble down the corridors of the underground station. Like children, they would shove each other against the tiled walls, sliding down and laughing harder once they hit the floor.

It was another Friday, they were sitting in an empty train carriage. Both had lost track of hours, but lucky enough to catch the last train. Neither could keep their eyes open or keep their words straight.

Hux was sliding down the seat, inspecting the new crack on his phone screen, mulling over the taste of raspberry on his tongue. Kylo was lying on his back, arms hiding his face, feet nudging Hux’s thigh. He muttered something into the crook of his elbow.

“Can’t hear you,” Hux pronounced into the collar of his shirt.

Flinging one arm down, Kylo repeated, “Y’know. The—the day I bumped int’ you. I did it on purpose.”

Hux’s stare slid down to Kylo, where his head was jammed against the barrier beside the doors. “P—Pardon? Bumped? That was a car crash. Review your seduction.”

“—Wasn’t tryin’ to seduce,” Kylo said, kicking Hux’s ribs. He got grabbed by the ankle which was turned against the joint until Kylo was hissing in pain. He sat up and grabbing his knees underneath his chin.

“You were like a teenage girl trying to get my attention,” Hux told him.

“Shuddup,” Kylo groaned and flopped against the backrests of the seats.

Street lights glanced through the windows as the train approached Earl’s Court. Hux pulled Kylo from the seats by his knees, forcing him to wake up and get up onto his feet. They were catching each other as the train began to slow, coordinating their steps toward the doors.

Kylo was behind Hux, arms around his shoulders, as they shuffled onto the platform. Hux tried to get out of his arms as the train pulled away, but Kylo squeezed hard and groaned against the nape of his neck. Hux turned in the lock of Kylo’s body and looked at his slack face and pink eyes. There was a hiccup at the back of Kylo’s throat that became a belch that his stifled on Hux’s shoulder. Feeling disgusting enough from the hours at the bars, Hux didn’t argue with it.

He watched Kylo pull away, glancing at his shoulder to check for vomit. “Do you remember your way home?” Hux asked.

Kylo hummed and hiccupped again. His head was swaying from side to side, greasy hair covering his eyes. Then, he said, “Might do.”

Kylo’s lips were red from biting down laughter, damp with spit and alcohol that he couldn’t keep in his mouth. Hux licked his lips as he stared, glancing at the flush on Kylo’s neck.

“Wha—What you staring at?” Kylo coughed.

“Your mouth. It’s stupid.”

Warm air hit Hux’s face as Kylo laughed. “My mouth is stupid?”

“Yeah.” Hux nodded. “Stupider than I remember.”

Kylo was grinning, swaying on his bowing legs and Hux leaned across the space between them and kissed him. Kylo’s hands were twisted in the front of Hux’s shirt and tie, he was falling against him and he tasted like their last round of drinks and smoke. Kylo was laughing at he kissed Hux back, burning with the blush that reached his ears.

Hux pulled Kylo back by his jaw, pressing thumbs into his cheeks. There was spit on his chin and his teeth were pulling red on his lip. Hux watched Kylo’s tongue push against the gap of his front teeth as he said, “It would be irresponsible for me to leave you like this, looking so stupid.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Kylo replied as he wiped at his mouth.

Hux grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him from of the station. They rushed down the streets, forcing themselves to walk faster out of the fear of falling over. Kylo was grabbing for the spikes of the garden fences of the terrace houses, shouting that he will vomit through Hux’s laughter.

They ran up the staircase to Hux’s flat, falling on the steps and crashing into the door. Hux was kissing him again while Kylo tried to get the keys from him. They lost most their clothes in the living room, tumbling onto the sofa before they managed to find their feet.

The mattress squeaked in the bedroom as they fell. Hux tipped onto the edge of the bed to shake off his shoes and trousers, but Kylo caught him under the arms and threw him down onto the covers, pulling off his belt, his shoes, leaving him naked waist down. Happy with the damage he had done, Kylo grabbed Hux underneath his jaw and kissed him, for the sake of the feeling of skin on skin, lips pressing to lips.

They laughed into the kisses that got lazier and lazier as Kylo dropped his weight onto Hux, pressing their naked legs together. They could smell the city on each other’s skin, the acrid haze of the roads, and listened to their breathing between the kisses and the covers shifting on the mattress as Kylo pushed himself up and straddled Hux.

He was pulled closer by his spread bare thighs as Hux squeezed them, reaching up to spread his hands on Kylo’s ass and pull on the cotton of his underwear. He got another laugh for it and Hux stared in the orange light of the street at the new lines of Kylo’s face, thinking how much he had ruined Hux for nine years. He should want to put his hands on Kylo’s throat and squeeze it until he felt as though he could go back on the nine years of guilt.

Instead, Hux pushed Kylo back onto the bed and bit the underside of Kylo’s knee, tasting sweat. Kylo’s t-shirt was pushed up and stomach kissed, a scratch of teeth was left on his hip, on his thigh. Hux pulled down Kylo’s underwear and with his slack lips left a kiss beside Kylo’s cock, making him hiss. Hux licked his hand and stroked Kylo’s dick, letting him thrust into his fist, socked feet sliding on the covers.

Watching Kylo, in the semi-dark, hearing him groan deep in his chest and slur his name, Hux wanted to bleed out over Kylo. He wanted to gather him under, hold him down to the mattress, to burn out the memory of nine years prior. He hated him and loved every touch he left on Hux’s skin.

Kylo’s legs were clinging to Hux’s hips as he covered him from the light of the street with his body. Hux pulled his hands through Kylo’s hair, kissing his jaw, his cheeks, pushing his thumb across Kylo’s lips and dipping it inside to feel his tongue. Their hips were pushing together, pressing for friction. Kylo's underwear was bunched on his thighs, cutting into his pelvis as Hux pulled on the waistband.

The edge of an orgasm ebbed in and out of the background, muffled by the drinks and exhaustion. They were too lazy to fuck; Hux could not find it in himself to climb out of Kylo’s hands and to even bother trying to find the condoms stuffed somewhere in the bathroom cabinet. Kylo was unwilling to let him go either; he held Hux down by his shoulders, pawing through his shirt like he wanted to remember the contours.

Kylo grinned when Hux reached between them, fumbling to push their underwear aside, suddenly impatient. Kylo linked their hands and stroked their cocks together in his rough palm. “I’ve got you,” Kylo murmured against his ear.

“I’ve got you.”

 

A weight hit the bed and Hux spasmed under the covers. He was coughing himself awake as a small cloud of thunder trotted toward him, rolling across the pillows toward his head. Hux peeled apart his eyelashes and stared at the grin of an orange tabby

“Millie?” he said, reaching up to the cat. “What is it, darling?” Millie bumped her head against his palm, trampling on the pillow.

In the absence of an alarm, it was typical for Millie to get impatient waiting for Hux to wake up and interfere, purring and grumbling over his head after charging into the room. It didn’t matter how much Hux would try to ignore her or ask her to go away, Millie would sit like a small purring demon, smiling behind her fanned whiskers.

Carefully, Hux retracted himself out of the bed, bracing for the pain crackling in his skull. He wobbled forward, feeling the weight of his drowsy body, when he was halted by a tug on his left arm. Hux turned back and looked down.

Rough knuckles and broken nails, tanned wrist to a forearm covered in moles and freckles. A shoulder with pale scars. Black hair stuck to red lips. Hux swallowed, breathing in the sticky air of the bedroom. He looked at Millie circling the floor, slowly blinking and twisting her flagged tail around his bare leg.

Hux scraped Kylo’s hand off his wrist, letting his arm fall onto the dented mattress. He dressed in pyjama pants to Millie’s trilling and the snoring on the bed, forgetting underwear as he stumbled around the room, kicking aside yesterday’s clothes to the overfilled laundry basket. With Millie around his ankles, Hux left the bedroom.

The light from the floor length windows striped the worn timber floors and the layered rugs. Hux winced as he passed them, squinting at the red brick flats across the road with flower baskets hanging on the balcony rails. Hux had been lucky enough to have the financial support of his parents, with funds and work connections, allowing him to afford privileges of excessive accommodations and the luck of living alone. Hux had never felt guilty.

Millie’s bowl was filled with dry food and the water was changed. She likes to eat beside the kitchen counter, keeping Hux in sight during breakfast and dinner. He saw her peering at him as he poured coffee and filled a mug with water. He braced both like armour as he left the kitchen.

Scripts of confrontations were cycling in Hux’s mind as he entered the bedroom. He closed the door and leaned against the frame as he burned his lips with coffee.

Kylo had pulled the covers over his shoulders and scrunched a fist of fabric against his mouth. His legs were naked, ankles rubbing together, toes curling on the mattress.

Hux procured himself a space on the edge of the bed, holding the mugs in front of his chest in case the occasion calls for further action.

“Kylo,” he said leaning toward the lump of his hair. “ _Kylo_ ,” he attempted again, shaking the mattress with his knee.

Kylo groaned and curled inwards with the covers twisting around him, disappearing under the folds. He breathed out slowly and opened his eyes one by one.

“Why’r you out of bed?” Kylo mumbled into the edge of the sheet as he rubbed an eye with the heel of his palm. “It’s nothing o’clock.”

Hux watched Kylo’s eyelids droop and his face flush as he shoved his hair away. He held the covers tight to his chest as he slowly scanning his eyes down Hux’s naked shoulders and chest, to the mugs held in his hands. Kylo breathed in and shot off the mattress, grabbing the coffee out of Hux’s hand.

Kylo slurped down the coffee, letting some run down his chin. Hux gulped and watched, doing nothing to take his drink back or look away when the covers fell off Kylo’s lap as he shifted his legs. His eyes widened as he stared at the thick, tanned thighs. A cough stuck in his throat.

The mug was set on Kylo’s knee as he smacked his lips together and swallowed. They sat in the quiet, slowly falling asleep in the heat of the room. Kylo was watching the shadows of the chestnut trees out in the street, letting the mug slip from his hand.

Hux took the opportunity to break their comfort. “If you are waiting for a moment to run away screaming,” he said, “this is it.”

Kylo coughed, spluttered, and stared at Hux. He shifted his legs, closing his thighs. “I—I wasn’t going to—” He coughed again as his voice became hoarse. “I mean—Unless you want me to leave?”

Hux pulled his mouth askew and looked Kylo down. “If you help me change the sheets, I might even let you weather your hangover here.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Kylo smiled. “Uh—Yeah, I’ll do that,” he said.

Something skidded across the floor in the kitchen, hitting the wall and clattering. Hux suspected it would be a cat bowl that was searched for food trapped underneath.

“That would be Millie,” Hux explained after watching Kylo’s eyes double in size.

Kylo cringed. “Millie?”

“My cat.”

“You have a _cat_.”

“Yes. I believe you tripped on her when we came in last night.”

Kylo frowned and look down at the mug he was squeezing between his palms. “Oh—Small and ginger. I—Remember. I thought it was you.”

Kylo spluttered when he was whacked on the head, then his shoulder. The mug was dropped into the covers, spilling the dregs of coffee into the sheets as Hux shook him by the back of his neck. They were both laughing, falling over on the mattress.

 

 

_Seven Months After the Day_

 

It was Friday again. Kylo said he needed a distraction; it had been a bad day at work.

Hux knew he should have gone home. But there had been something in Kylo’s voice that made him realise if he said ‘no’ Kylo would go anyway and Hux wouldn’t be there to stop what happened next.

 

It happened anyway.

Kylo drank too much, his temper got out of hand. He didn’t watch his words and found his hand wrapped in the front of a man’s t-shirt. Neither backed down and soon Kylo’s knuckles got bloody. Hux stopped the bar staff from dragging Kylo against his will and begged them out of calling the police. He quickly shoved Kylo out of the building before anyone got a better look at him.

Kylo was far too drunk, it was obvious to anyone. He lied across the seats with his head in Hux’s lap as they took a west bound train toward Earl’s Court. Hux did not touch him, letting Kylo’s head slide down his knees as he checked university emails. He decided if he touched Kylo, he would not hold back his own anger.

At their stop, Hux shook Kylo awake. When he hardly responded, Hux hauled him up, letting his arms cling to him even as they crept up his clothes. They lurched out of the train, Kylo’s feet dragging across the platform as he moaned for Hux.

With fingers stuck in the belt of Hux’s jeans, Kylo wrapped himself around him as Hux guided them through the streets of muggy summer air. It was a slow progress to make it to the flat. They occasionally stopped between the streetlights so Hux could gather his breath before shrugging Kylo’s arms higher up on his shoulders.

Hux left Kylo on the garden railing as he unlocked the front door of the flat’s building. As he took him up again, Hux vaguely heard Kylo groan, “You’re s’nice t’ me.”

They made it to the first landing when Kylo repeated, “Why’re y’so nice to me?”

They tripped and Hux caught himself on a step, bearing both of their weights. “Keep walking,” Hux said once they stood again.

In the hallway of his flat, Hux tried to reach for the light switch, but Kylo dragged him away and onto the floor. They fell in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Y’know, you shouldn’t be so nice t’ me,” Kylo said with his face against Hux’s neck, his breathing a sore burn on his skin.

 Footsteps pattered down the floor and Millie rolled into Hux’s ribs, purring. She rubbed herself against his legs as he tried to stand, heaving up Kylo’s weight.

“Look!” Kylo cried out with sudden sobriety, pointing at Millie as she yowled. “Even she agrees!”

Hux pushed Kylo toward the bedroom, grinding out under his breath, “You need to sleep.”

There was a shudder in the corridor as Kylo shoved Hux against a wall. “Don’t! Don’t do that!” he yelled. “Aren’t you listenin’ to a word am saying?” he pleaded, taking Hux’s face into his hands. “Stop doin’ that. I am telling you to stop being so nice, s’ forgivin’.” He smacked kisses to Hux’s squashed cheeks, then his fingers as he was pushed away.

“Don’t assume that I am forgiving you,” Hux replied and smiled.

There was silence in the dark as Kylo’s hands dropped to Hux’s shoulders. His breathing was ragged and hard on Hux’s face. Then, with cold clarity, he whispered, “I think I love you.”

Hux stared. His hands were braced against his own chest, palms cold with sweat. “What?” he whispered back.

“I really, really love you,” Kylo said, muffling his words with another wet kiss smudged to Hux’s lips.

Hux was numb in Kylo’s hands as he muttered, “Don’t say that.”

Kylo laughed. “Why? ‘Cuz you scared I’ll leave you again?” He was smiling as he spoke.

Hux looked away. His throat was tight.

“You are!” Kylo yelled. “Maybe I will, maybe I’ll leave you, jus’ like the last time.” His smile was widening and Hux felt sick. He knew he shouldn’t have believed a single, alcohol-soaked syllable those lips spat at him.

Kylo leaned in, stopping Hux from losing his focus on him, and whispered into his face, “Maybe I wouldn’t even miss you. I wouldn’t even come back.”

Hux’s breathing heaved through his mouth, drying out his throat. It hardly took any strength for Hux to push Kylo away, across the corridor to the opposite wall where he caught himself on a cabinet.

“I should do it, jus’ to make you hurt for makin’ me hurt—hate m’self for runnin’ away that time,” Kylo slurred and lurched from the wall, falling onto Hux again when he tripped. He was caught by his wrists and held at a distance.

“B’ not no—ow,” Kylo muttered, “later I think—I need t’ sleep.” Then, he fell slack against Hux, head against his stomach, knees on the floorboards.

Hux struggled to hold onto Kylo’s weight, hefting him toward the sofa. There, he threw him down, dragging his legs up after the rest of his body. Kylo lied like a pile of trash thrown into his living room, passed out into the cushions, arms bent painfully underneath his chest and clothes bunched up his back.

Hux left the room and slowly removed his shoes and jacket in the hallway, putting each item away with a dumb stare. He didn’t think of the man snoring in his living room as he undressed and fell into bed, pulling up the covers over his ears.

The branches of the chestnut tree were knocking on the window. Below the floorboards, the neighbours were talking, the springs of their bed clicking. Hux sucked on his teeth, tasting Kylo’s drinks.

Footsteps pattered like rain through the flat. The bed dipped on the edge and the covers crinkled as Hux pulled them over his head. Millie purred and stepped over his legs, walking along his back until she reached his shoulders where she curled up and rumbled.

There was no air to breathe under the covers that muffled Millie and the cars passing in the street as Hux slept.

 

The squeaking of footboards, the scrape of metal hoops as a window opened. A soft voice murmuring in some far room, a cat yowling. Hux frowned at the door of his bedroom, listening to the footsteps explore the flat.

He had refused to get up when Millie prodded and grumbled for him to stand and hid under the roof of white sheets. He kept a small hope that he would not have to wait long for Kylo to leave, after he saw himself to the shower, the food in the kitchen, maybe the clothes Hux left out to dry. He just wanted him to go.

But Kylo stayed and did what Hux could not bring himself to do when Millie kept on screaming at him and pawing the covers. Kylo called her away and food rattled in the bowls under the kitchen counter. The windows were opened in the living room, airing the hallways.

It must have been midday when Kylo walked the bedroom door and stood in the threshold, stepping from one socked foot to the other. Hux lied under the curdled sheets, face turned away and eyes squeezed shut.

“I know you’re not sleeping,” Kylo said.

Hux breathed shallowly, his heart was pounding between his ears.

“If you can, I would like you to listen to me.”

There was no movement as Kylo breathed in, no other sound but the traffic on a distant street.

“I remember what I said,” Kylo told him, letting go of the door handle. “I know—I remember. And I am sorry. I was angry, if that makes you understand, but I am sorry. I didn’t mean what I said—I mean, I did mean the other stuff. I do love you.” He stepped back into the hallway. “I don’t have any excuses, I am sorry—”

The covers were pulled back from the bed. Hux stared at Kylo over his shoulder, hair knotted over his eyes and lips pinched white. Kylo fumbled to close the door, but Hux threw himself out of the bed. He grabbed Kylo’s wrist before he could let go of the door handle.

They stared, breathing hard in the thick air of the dim bedroom. Kylo was shaking and pale, his eyes couldn’t leave Hux who swallowed and reached out. He grabbed Kylo by the hair and kissed him.

Stumbling back into the room, Kylo held Hux by the shoulders, pressing back into the kiss.

 

 

 

_One Year and Eight Months After the Day_

 

Crowds pour into the train carriage, mobs of families with strings of children, the elderly who cannot move through the carriage to create space, and couples who have decided they are too holy to move from the doors.

Hux watches the masses push through the doors into the train, bracing for a threat to his peace. Children are raising their voices, climbing over the laps of their parents and demanding drinks or snacks form the overloaded prams. Hux has jammed his ring finger between his teeth, gnawing the cuticles as he tries to breathe through the August heat that has stifled the city.

Kylo doesn’t notice Hux’s meltdown; his brain has been turned to mush by the round, gooey face of a toddler that is bouncing on the knee of a dozing mother, bound up in her arms. It giggles and gurgles as Kylo coos at it, pulling faces and wiggling fingers in a wave.

Hux can’t appreciate the mellow expression of Kylo’s face as he stares at the rioting mob flooding through the train carriage, threatening to suffocate him with the folds of their bodies. They are everywhere, with their sweaty skin, loud voices, bulging bags, and feet that step on Hux’s toes even as he pushes them horizontally against the seat. They are _everywhere_ , for fuck’s sake.

A mother is yelling at her teenage child, an elderly man with a choked-up voice is trying to speak over his companions, someone is hacking up on a swallow of water. There is a smell of fast food, a tang of beer, and a cloud of Lynx hanging over the school boys who are poking at their phones.

Hux jams his teeth into his finger. He wants to go home, opens the doors and windows in all the rooms and slide down the sofa as he breathes in the smell of cut grass from the park around the corner of the building. He wants to hold onto Millie and feel her rumble under his hand and sleep through the summer heat.

Someone pushes through the pressed crowd and a fresh cloud of sweat and grease sweeps over Hux. Copper floods his tongue.

“Oh fucking _shit_ ,” Hux hisses and inspects his hand as blood trails down the spit slick skin of his ring finger.

Kylo is turning and grabbing Hux’s hand. “Aw, what was that for?” he tsks, taking the wounded finger for inspection.

Hux snatches his hand back and snaps, “Leave it alone.”

“What were you thinking about that made you rip your hand apart like that?” Kylo sits askew, one leg under his ass, an elbow on the backrest, crowding into Hux. He isn’t bothered by the stinking masses and breathes easy through the recycled air of the underground tunnel.

“I was thinking,” Hux pronounces carefully, “What kind of an idiot would call himself _Kylo Ren_.”

There is a moment of silence as Kylo stares, shifting with the movements of the train, before pulling his face in a wide grin that he stifles on Hux’s shoulder. “What? Like you are any better refusing to be called by your first name.”

Hux refuses to look at Kylo and his smirk. But he spots it in the reflection of the window when the crowds shift, giving glimpses of the opposite carriage wall.

“You even make me call you ‘Hux’ in bed,” Kylo teases, whispering against his shoulder. “ _Hux, Hux, Hux_ —” he moans low and Hux can feel the grin on his neck as he sinks into the seat.

“Maybe it’s a _power_ thing,” Kylo considers. “You’re obsessed with work and, I mean, all that power over those young minds. No wonder you like it when I call you _Sir_ —”

Hux clamps his hand over Kylo’s mouth. He squeezes the smirk beneath his fingers as those damn eyes crease at the corners with laughter. Hux lets go because he knows what will come next and sees the pink tongue peeking out between Kylo’s lips as he pulls his hand away.

Hux scrunches his nose and rubs the hand that covered Kylo’s mouth against his thigh.

“Don’t be like that.” Kylo leans in and presses a kiss to Hux’s cheek.

Words curl up on Hux’s tongue, ready to be spat, but the stark August light breaks into the train and the shadows scatter to the corners. Everything is yellow and orange in the sunlight. Hux watches Kylo’s eyes spark up in a spectrum of colours. The wind coming through the open window pulls Kylo’s hair, throwing it forward into his face.

A shadow falls over the train and the vision is gone. The sounds of Earl’s Court fill the gaps where there was light, and the masses packed into the train shift toward the doors.

Hux takes Kylo’s hand and pulls him to follow.

 

 

 


End file.
